Story of a Commie
by Mytherna
Summary: Ivan is broken, and has closed himself off. Can Alfred save him? (Human!AU with schizophrenia)
1. Waking Up Is The Hardest Part

*keysmash*... There isn't enough fluff for this pairing. I guess I'm not much help. But I can change! I'm going to write some teeth-rotting, Human!AU adorableness. uwu

I'm so lazy with this right now, so I'm really sorry... If I don't write another chapter for a while, don't be surprised. For a basic summary of the whole story, Ivan just got out of a bad relationship with Yao, and has closed his heart off to love. Alfred is gonna try to be his "hero". My parents took me into a doctor to see if I was schizophrenic (which I'm not...), but I did learn a lot about schizophrenia whilst I was there. I really want to write something with a schizophrenic character, and I figure Ivan could totally work for the role. I'm not trying to insult anyone here, that'd be horrible. I understand that it's a mental illness and is not a joke. I will write it as such. There's voices in his head in there, as well as a flashback, which are both are in italics. It's rated T right now, though that might change later on in the story. ;) Anyways... Comments are always adored!

Update: Right now I'm having serious family problems, so I might be slow to right the next chapter... u.u

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Ivan woke up alone, which was out of the norm. He ruffled his bed-ridden hair lazily before his chapped lips curved downwards. Usually, his boyfriend would have woken him up if he had to go somewhere, or at least left a note. It wasn't like him to just leave without any notice, especially on a day like this. Maybe at least a text? The Russian silently thought, his hands clumsily looking for his old-model cellphone. He flipped it open, and saw that he had a new text from Yao. He smiled a little, expecting it to be something sweet since it was their third anniversary. His soft violet eyes read across the slightly cracked screen. The words shocked him, it was something he couldn't even begin to understand.

A text message break up. The lowest of the low. His mind couldn't believe what he was reading, thinking it must be a joke. Yao wouldn't just leave him here with not even a good-bye. The thought that the person he loved so much would leave him in such a harsh way. It was inconceivable. The words of apology didn't make it better. It almost made it worse. He read over the text a few times, unbelieving that he would do something so cruel. 'Sorry Ivan, but thing's aren't working out. We could still be friends?' The tears flooded his eyes as reality hit him right in the gut. He thought things were going so well, but apparently his boyfriend... Or rather, ex-boyfriend didn't think so. _Oh you poor wittle fing..._ A voice said from somewhere inside of himself, mocking the crying man. It was hard enough to deal with the 'real life', let alone his own thoughts. He cringed at the harsh tone in his shaky mind. He wished he was stronger, but couldn't help it. A sharp laugh pierced his broken mind and heart. _You moron... You'll never be loved._

"No no no no no..." He chanted over and over again, denying the words. But he started to believe them, just a little bit. Maybe he was cursed to be forever alone, without any hope for escape. There is one escape, you know. Oh, Ivan knew very well of this escape that his voice spoke of.

_It was a cool spring day in his hometown when he had first tried to escape. He had been at an after-school party for his science club, and it seemed like a good time to go. The voices had told him to, and with the recent death of his mother it all seemed to make sense. He had his ADHD medication, which is what the scary men in white coats were sure he had. 'It will all be over soon...' Ivan had thought as he threw the whole bottle back. The poor Russian waited for a few minutes before he felt a pain from his gut, like someone or something had plunged through his stomach with a large sword. The dim bathroom and cold floor had provided him no comfort as he cried out in pain. In his head he heard childlike laughter at his immense pain before he blacked out._

_When he woke, he saw his two sisters crowded around him at the local hospital, their eyes wet and red with tears. He didn't like to see them like that. He didn't like any of this. The scary men in white coats had poked him with needles and gave him more things that made him hurt. That day, he promised that he wouldn't try to kill himself again. Never._

The Russian shook his head in fear, an emotion he felt often. He turned over onto his stomach and sobbed madly. He had loved Yao so much. The tears stung as the words repeated over in his head. The names he had been called, the harsh words that other people have said.

After a few minutes of tears, he rolled back over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He had decorated it himself, with glow-in-the-dark stars. Some might say it was childish, but he liked it a lot. His fingers held tight to the navy blue sheets under him, hot tears still in his eyes. Ivan tried to focus on the soft green glow of the stars. He loved space and all its wonders, but no sort of scientific industry would accept someone like him. A foreign and unstable gay man? It wasn't even worth trying.

He sat up, and headed to the bathroom. The too-bright lights made him groan, and he rubbed his temples. Out of the medicine cabinet he pulled a variety of pills, and filled a glass with water. The only good thing about today was that the coffee shop was having its weekly poetry reading tonight. He also liked poetry, even though he found it hard to write in general. The Russian was better at working with his hands, which one could tell by the contents of his home.

He threw his daily dosage of pills back into his mouth, taking a shot of water with them. He needed to get washed up before he started working, so he stripped down. The Russian then walked to the shower, making sure not to trip into it as he sometimes did. He turned the shower on, and jumped when the cold water hit his body. He did that every day, but never seemed to do anything about it. Slowly, the water heated and he relaxed for a while. It was on its hottest, but that didn't seem to bother him one bit. With his eyes closed, Ivan groped for the shampoo bottle, picking up the shaving cream instead. He squirted it onto his head, too late realizing his mistake. The young man verbally key-smashed before rinsing the puffy substance out of his hair. He learned from his mistake and grabbed the shampoo, squeezing it onto his light-colored hair. He worked it into a lather, forgetting to close his eyes again. The sudzy formula sunk down into his violet eyes, making him call out a curse in Russian before washing out the soap from his pupils. If eyes are windows to the soul, he thought, my soul is in serious pain. He sighed at how true that was.

After a quick scrubbing of his body, he stood under the showerhead. The water trickled down his face and over his body. It felt so good to be in there, he never wanted to get out. But there was work to be done, and so he turned off the water. He then stepped out of the shower, dripping water on the tile floor. He snatched a towel from the rack, next to where Yao had put his towel. Another sigh escaped his lips, and he went to start his day as usual. Or maybe not so usual now that his lover was gone.

He changed into some simple clothes and went to the kitchen. He put his kettle and toast on for breakfast, and grabbed his favorite mug. As many things in his house, he had sculpted and painted the cup himself, and he used it everyday. It was extremely important to him; the bright colors on it cheered him up. He patiently waited for the water to boil... Or not. Ivan was not the most patient of people. The Russian tapped his foot and analyzed his kitchen whilst waiting, bored out of his mind when suddenly it happened. In his boredom he had gotten lazy, and his hands had loosened their grip on his beloved item. The mug slipped from his hand, crashing to the ground and breaking into tiny pieces. He stood there for a moment like he didn't know what to do. The broken pieces were like his heart, and he didn't move to pick them up. It was 'too early' for him to try to pick up the pieces now.

He grabbed another cup and made himself some tea, but it wasn't the same. Yao had always talked with him at times like these. He would have made things better. Ivan was going to miss his ex so very much.


	2. Sea Green

Hello my pretties... I'm not going to explain much on why I've been gone; you can PM me if you want information.

For this chapter, I made Ivan a carpenter. In his character song, it says he likes to make things with his hands. Even though I'd usually make him a scientist or something like that because I think that's cute, I'm going to change it up. nwn Also, a lot about Yao in this chapter. I wanted to explain his side of the story, because he's not horrible. Just scared, which isn't a good thing but it's understandable I guess. Also, Alfred introduced next chapter I think~!

Other than that, I don't have much to say. Enjoy~

Update: Sorry for the really short chapter... But I'll make it longer next time. :S I think I'm going to make Al a traveling salesman selling some sort of product... Any suggestions on what it should be?

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The Russian made himself a cup of tea. He didn't have anything fancy, in fact it was really disgusting in flavour. Ivan barely had enough to pay rent and buy ramen noodles, let alone buy expensive teas. He sipped on the bitter drink, unbothered by a taste that most despise. Hunger is the best cook, one might say. Despite the intense brew, the rest of his morning food was quite bland. A delightfully boring combo of oatmeal with a little bit of milk and a ton of cinnamon is what comprised most of his breakfast. He brought his uninteresting food over to the table, which wobbled a little bit when weight was placed on it, and stared at the blank wall. There wasn't anything better to do; the loneliness was absolutely debilitating.

Ivan sighed before he ate slowly, thinking about what to do. He didn't feel like working today, though if he didn't there might not be enough money to pay the rent. So, upon finishing his food and lazily putting it in the sink along with the many other dishes he'd have to do later, he went to his workroom. Inside, it was painted sea green, like the ocean. _Yao's favorite color... _He said in dismay, the thought of his ex making him feel worse. There was a sinking feeling in his chest, like something was weighing him down. It made his breath short and his head feel light. That color had always made him so happy when they were dating. And now it just hurt. He'd have to fix that sometime soon, when he had the time and the money.

But he sat down at his work bench instead of running to his room like he wanted to, and grabbed the statue he had been working on for customer. It was a rosewood statue of two people in a loving embrace. Each little detail had been carefully placed by his large hands, and he was very good at what he did. Unfortunately, no one seemed to appreciate it. The elaborate work wouldn't be sold for anything close to what it should be worth. But he still loved to work. It gave him a sense of satisfaction even if he wasn't going to get paid fairly for it.

After a long while of work, the Russian stopped. His hands hurt, but the statue was finished. It showed a couple holding eachother, and looking at it made Ivan want to cry. Even though it would make him money, he wanted to throw it away because it hurt. But instead he got up and called the buyer, and spoke to them with a seemingly enthusiastic voice. They seemed very happy that it was finished; it was for their wedding. He congratulated them and hung up, though he wanted to talk about how hard it was for him to finish the project. Being in Yao's favorite room whilst making something romantic was torturous. Before putting his phone away, he dialed up Yao. _Ring... Ring... Ring... _Then came on the other man's voicemail. His call had been ignored. Instead of leaving a teary message, Ivan just hung up.

What the Russian man didn't understand was why Yao was ignoring him. His ex was terrified of what Ivan could possibly do, given his instability. He knew that the other would be devastated, but he couldn't live with it anymore. It was hard to deal with someone who was so... Unusual. There were times when the had been able to be a happy couple, but there were so many times when they weren't. He felt sorry for Ivan, but for the sake of his own sanity he had to leave him. And for his own life, he hadn't broken up with him in person. Who knows what the Russian could have done if he had been given the chance?

But Ivan didn't know that at all. He thought this was just his punishment for doing something bad. That must be it right? He must have done something to upset Yao, otherwise they could have still been happy together. _Happy? Who is ever happy with you? _The voice sneered. Maybe the voice was right. Maybe he'd never make anyone truly happy. What a depressing thought.


	3. Door to Door

I kind of like this chapter. Al gets introduced, and Ivan doesn't like him much. But he invites the young traveling salesman inside anyways, and makes him something to eat. Whilst he is doing this, Yao calls to apologize. We also get the first sprinkling of heroism from Alfred this chapter. Next chapter will be a surprise, maybe. ;3

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A couple of short, quick knocks to the door rang through the house, and the Russian inwardly groaned. Ivan didn't like answering the door. It was always a bother, and the person on the other side was always uninterested in him. However, he tried to stay positive. _Maybe it's another customer? _He thought hopefully, getting up to go answer the door. All he was wearing at the time was a bathrobe, since he didn't have the energy to get dressed like he usually would. To make himself look a little more presentable, he licked his fingers and attempted to make his hair seem a little less messy in case it was a client.

Upon arriving to the door, he looked through the door scope. On the other side was something that startled him. A man a bit younger than him waited for him to open the door, an excited grin on his face. His blue eyes were so bright and alive, it almost made Ivan cringe. In his hand was a briefcase, a logo for some company printed on it. _A traveling salesman... _He concluded in dismay. However, he didn't want to seem rude so he opened the door. The man on the other side held his hand out to Ivan, his voice loud and a bit obnoxious. "Hi! I'm Alfred, with Lousasil Weight Loss Company." The Russian stared at the hand in front of him, and then back into the crystal blue eyes of the young retailer. He adjusted his robe before shaking the hand. "Privyet, Alfred..." He said in an indifferent voice, since he didn't particularly like door-to-door vendors.

Alfred wasn't deterred by the disinterest the Russian had, since it was one most people had when he came around. It wasn't like he wanted to sell some stupid product, but he needed money. His brother had kicked him out a while back because he had dropped out of college. So, whatever work he could find was good work. He was actually very good at convincing people to buy from him; his energetic attitude helped with that. Ivan yawned some, now not as worried about keeping his appearance up since Alfred wasn't a client. He didn't really want to be polite, but his sister Katyusha had always taught him to be good to strangers. "Would you like to come in? I could make you a quick cup of tea if you wanted it..."

The offer was quite tempting to the American. He had been out since dawn, and it was almost noon now. "Well, it couldn't hurt I guess." Ivan nodded and went to the kitchen, gesturing for the other man to follow him. He then pointed at the table, and Alfred sat down. "Hmm... Would you like something to eat too? I could make you something, if you would like." He didn't have much to eat in the house, but he figured there was at least something he could serve. Al's stomach growled loudly at the mention of food, but he shook his head anyways. "Nah, I'm on that diet plan..." He began to say, but he thought twice. If he could get a free meal, then he'd have enough money to get the new game coming out this weekend. "Actually. it couldn't hurt. Thanks, bro." Ivan nodded and went to the fridge. "No problem... Bro...?" He replied, his accent extra-obvious when he uttered 'bro'.

"So, where'ya from? Like, Africa or something like that?" He questioned upon hearing the accented voice. The Russian shook his head whilst making a sandwich for the other man, and explained that he was born in Russia. "So, like Soviet Russia... And everything will become one with Mother Russia, da?" Alfred chuckled after doing the worst possible Russian accent, like Boris from _Rocky and Bullwinkle_.Ivan sighed audibly, shaking his head once again. This time he had a light blush on his face. "Nyet, not like that..."

After Al got bored with that subject, he quickly switched to a new one. He blathered on about how awesome this new game he was going to get this weekend was, and that it had the best graphics and coolest guns. Not that Ivan would care one bit about that, so he kind of just tuned the salesman out. That was a difficult task, since his voice was fairly loud and invasive. Soon after, he finished making an average sandwich and some crisps to go with it. He placed this in front of the American, who thanked him a bit lamely and then dug into the free food.

"Would you like anything to drink?" The Russian asked, hoping he'd say no. "Yeah, this sandwich is a bit dry. Got any soda?" Al complained, though he didn't know if commies drank soda. "I might have some..." He said, to the other man's surprise. Ivan dug through the fridge, finding a bottle of cheap soda. "I guess this is still okay..." He looked at the can. The expiration date was for last week. The year before. "Ah... Never-mind. I'll get water for you." Alfred sighed, seeing as his hopes were for a soda.

As he was taking ice from the freezer, his phone buzzed in his pocket before playing a sweet little personalized tune. The Russian looked worried as he almost dropped the cup he was holding at the unexpectedness. He hadn't expected that Yao would call back for a while, but he pulled his phone immediately out of his pocket and picked up. "H-hello?" He said worriedly, like he was afraid of something. Ivan gave a look to the salesman, something like 'I'll be back in a moment; need to take this'. Al nodded, though no one needed his consent, and he waited as he heard the other speak. He sounded like a child who was being tormented by his teacher after failing a test. However, Yao wasn't harassing the Russian at all. Through the speaker came only apologies that he did something like break-up over text. He wanted to 'still be friends' and 'have no hard feelings'. Ivan didn't understand this concept, since he truly did love Yao and treating him like a friend would be denying himself.

But what was he to do? He just smiled as he ignored watery eyes and made an almost inaudible noise of agreement, like he hoped that if no one could hear him that it wouldn't count. Yao knew everything was not back to normal. He didn't know the full extent of the Russian's love, but he knew that Ivan still had a lot of feelings. He wondered whether or not Ivan understood that he had feelings too, but not ones of love really. He liked the other man, but being boyfriends was getting to be worrisome. Some days the Russian was better than others, but there were days when depression struck Ivan hard like a blow to the stomach. It was stressful to try and balance out a job, health, and a dependent and unstable boyfriend.

The two men said their good-byes before they hung up, and the Russian man struggled to blink back tears. He didn't want to make the stranger in his house feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, Ivan didn't do a good job of that, and a few tears traveled down his face despite a soft smile. Al saw these, but countrary to what one might think, they didn't distress him. In fact, they caused a chain-reaction for a different feeling to occur all together. Courage, many say. The wise call it stupidity. The young call it love. But at that time, Alfred wouldn't know what to call it yet. Maybe it was both, or something else entirely. Whatever it was, he liked it but didn't at the same time. It made him feel dizzy but energized and ready for action. He wanted to help that poor suffering man, though he didn't know how or why.

He wanted so badly to be a hero.


	4. A Passing

I'm back, sorry for the delay in the update! I was at a music competition, and didn't have my laptop. So yeah, sorry for the shit chapter. I'll do better next chapter.

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Ivan wiped his teary eyes, trying to cover up the fact that he was crying as he sat down at the table. Unluckily for him, it was far too late, and the American had already seen. "You okay, dude?" Al said, trying to hide the fact that he was a bit worried. He didn't know this man, and what he might do when he was upset. Ivan looked up from his self-pity party long enough to nod his head. He didn't want the other man to know what was going on, since he would probably be scared of him if he did. However, Alfred was stubborn, nosy, and had to know what was going on. "I know there's something up, tell me!"

The Russian spoke softly, denying the fact that he was upset. "Nyet, everything is fine. Actually, do you mind... Leaving? I'll pack your sandwich up to go, and maybe I'll call you about the product your selling?" He didn't care at all about loosing weight, since it didn't really matter to him. But he thought that if he didn't say that, Al wouldn't leave. He was wrong though, and the young salesman was more worried about what was going on with Ivan. Not wanting to be rude though, he nodded in response. "Sure... i'll give you my card, call me if you want to talk." He uttered, not looking at the Russian man. Al pulled out a small beat-up paper that had been left in his pocket too long. He faked his best smile and handed the crappy card to Ivan. "Here 'ya go, enjoy." He immediately felt that he had lost a costumer, so it was pointless to stay any longer anyways. _At least I got a free lunch? _He considered, thinking it a feeble gain.

The young wood-worker stood to shake Alfred's hand in a way that strangers do, a sort of indifferent fumble of the hands. He honestly couldn't wait to get the salesman out of his house so that he could put his thoughts into work, where he could think about the little detailed figures rather than real life. They exchanged the vacant smiles of two people who are trying to be polite, and went their separate ways. Alfred went to the door, sighing as he left the small apartment and went to the next door. He didn't even bring his lunch with him.

Inside the flat, the young Russian moped around and thought for a while. About what to do with Yao and how to make ends meet. He went back to his workshop, attempting to ignore the color on the wall, and enveloped his mind in every detail of the new statue. It was of a soft sweet rose, and he made sure it captured every bit of beauty the real flower had. His mind was so focused on making everything perfect, and so far it was going well. However, his phone rang loud again, causing his hand to slip. He cut himself a bit, but more importantly he just damaged the wood of the rose. Ivan sucked on his sore whilst he flipped out his phone to see who it was. Just another advertisement call that he would never pick up. He groaned a bit loudly, mostly because he had worked so hard on that little figure. _That's how everything is, right? I try so hard, but nothing ever works for me. I'll never do good enough. _

He sighed and got up to go rinse off his wound and bandage it up. As he placed the adhessive cloth onto his bloodied hand, he felt as though there wasn't anything more to life. Ivan tried to combat the feeling with every being in his body. He didn't want to think about death at that moment; it wasn't right to do that. The Russian walked out of the bathroom and to his bedroom, flopping down on the bed he once shared with his partner. He let out a long deep sigh, turning onto his side. His head pounded, and rubbed his temples. It didn't do a thing to help.

On the other side of town, Al was making the last of his trip. He hadn't gotten one person to buy his product today. Most just slammed the door in his face, which was always quite wonderful and uplifting (yeah right). He walked down the street, sweat dripping down his brow from the long day in the sun. The American knocked on the last door, a slightly overweight woman answering the door. She wasn't too bad off, but wasn't skinny either. His faked smile and upbeat attitude were convincing, but weren't enough to get the money from her. She closed the door after denying the need for it, and he let his head droop. It was hopeless, and nothing he tried seemed to work.

He walked down the street rather pointlessly, since he had no clear destination. His phone rang loudly, and he snatched it from his pocket. Vivienne, his girlfriend, was calling. Knowing that he'd be in deep shit if he didn't pick up, he answered with a "Y'ello...?" On the other side, Viv answered in her regular way with beginning a pissed rant about some co-worker. She worked as a minor actress (no one of any real interest), and was always complaining. His wanted to be a star, but with her mediocre looks there wasn't much hope for her. However, Al liked her. She might be a real bitch sometimes, but at least he had someone to make-out with. Nevertheless, today wasn't a day he really wanted to deal with the endless monotony that was his girlfriend's rants. "H-hey babe, could we talk about this later?"

"Alfie! You never listen to me! You don't care about me evvverrrr..." She wined, and the poor salesman winced at the sound. His head ached. He liked Vivienne, but she could be such a bitch sometimes. Especially times like now.


	5. Vodka and Beers

Egad! Sorry for the crappy last chapter. I didn't have much time to write, and I wanted to put something down... So now I'll make it up to you in this chapter!

Vivienne always sounded like a snooty name to me. Sorry if it's your name, it's simply my opinion and personal preference. I had a friend named Vivienne and she was always really super annoying. But Viv is sort of based off me, at least in appearance. In attitude she's based of one of my drama friends on a day when she didn't drink coffee.

Anyways, eventually they will get together. _Eventually_. I like drama and suspense and shit. So, bare with me for a while longer, my pretties.

P.S. Someone asked why Ivan was a carpenter. In Russia's character song My Heart Has A Light "'I'm proud of handmade things..." and it shows him making little matryoshka. I thought it'd be a good idea, y'know? Sorry if you don't like that, but inspiration comes in the weirdest of ways.

P.S.S. Anything in italics is either in one of their heads or not real. All good? :3

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Alfred wasn't at all excited to go home. He never really was. There was always a problem or crisis and he was expected to take care of it. It was actually quite annoying honestly. Viv was a real whiner, and constantly nagging him. It was like they were married or something. Not that he was ever a marrying type, and it pissed him off how she bitched and moaned constantly. However, the times she could be sweet made it almost worth it. Plus, Al could never break up with her, and that's not because he was weak or emotional. She had tons of money and owned the apartment they shared. If he broke it off, then he'd have to deal with moving out. Which was not something he really wanted to do.

As he walked up to the front door and took out his keys to unlock it, a sudden cold wind blew. The young salesman was adapted to both cold and warm, but he still shivered from the sudden gust. Quickly, he got inside to the small cluttered living room. Viv didn't ever cook, she said it could hurt her precious hands that had better things to do. So, upon his arrival home, he started in on making something to eat. Before he could even get to the kitchen, the beast that is an angry Vivienne got to him. She fussed about how she wasn't lead role as he took off his hat and hung it on the rack. "Babe, babe please... I have a headache..." He didn't really, but anything that could get her to shut up was really worth it.

"Alfred Jones! You never listen to me when I want to talk, and you always disrespect me and my rights..." She yammered on for what seemed like an eternity, before switching back to her earlier diatribe of her co-worker. He tried to tune her out and think for a while. As a person, Viv's morals were horrible. She would do anything to get into the spotlight, and she gossiped endlessly. Even still, her looks didn't make up for what she lacked in personality. Vivienne was the type of girl that had to where heels to make her feel like she fit in, because her height was unnatural. She was pretty enough, but she wasn't the type of girl men went mad for. Average, one might say. Fake nails constantly adorned her badly formed fingernails that she felt were embarrassing. Her shoulder-length brown hair frizzed often if she didn't do anything with it, and she often didn't. For whatever reason, she felt like the world belonged to her simply because she was alive. And when things didn't go her way, she made them go whatever way she wanted.

But there were lots of things that were good about her. Viv's eyes shown a light green, and her nose curved in a pixie-like way. Al thought that was adorable, and when he told her a light blush would appear on her fair-skinned face. When she was in a pleasant mood, she liked to cuddle a lot. She was really good at that. Her boobs weren't big, but they were definitely soft and made a great pillow. They'd share the cool nights together on their torn old couch, and never speak a word. The silence was perfect for both of them, and it seemed like the rest of the world didn't exist when he was with her there. Al loved those times.

But currently she wasn't in such a good mood. She stormed into their bedroom and locked the door, leaving Alfred estranged in the kitchen. He sighed, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and plopped down on the living room couch. With no intention of getting drunk, he casually sipped at the bottle for some sort of comfort. When she had these outbursts it seemed like their relationship was hanging by a thread. Was it? He didn't even know. He didn't know why she was still here with him. He had no money, no education, and though his looks and personality were fine, he had nothing to truly offer. She had all the cash, and a family that she could go to for help if she needed it. He had none of that. Maybe she felt sorry for him, or that she couldn't do better. _With money, she could do anything, right? _The young American thought as he drank a bit more of the slightly bitter liquid.

On the other side of town, Ivan was trying to drink Yao off his mind. Empty vodka bottles lined up around his bed like soldiers on a field, ready to fight an invisible enemy. His tearducts had run out of fluid, so he sat there sniffling and drinking down the vile drink from his home-country. When he drank, the voices got worse in his head. They were louder, overcoming the thoughts in his head. For that reason he didn't like to drink often, and stayed away from alcohol of any kind. However, at times like these, the non-existant was better than what was actually going on in reality. Ivan stared blankly at the T.V. screen, which had a commercial for some crappy product for hair care. Not that he was paying attention. Inside his head was some kind of civil war, raging on to find what to do. One side of him, in his drunken sadness, wanted to end his life. The side that was still a bit sober and sane was heavily denying this, and he wasn't sure what side to choose. Each section was yelling, and he just needed peace. Neither part of him was going to give that to him. Back and forth, the voices yelled as though they were in the room with him, not in his head.

_"End it, we can be free then!" A mans voice yelled in anger._  
_"No, if he ends himself then we won't be able to live on!" A female voice screeched in horror._  
_"You've got to save us!" A young girl cried, worried for her life._  
_"He's going to murder us!" An elderly man got out before being quieted.  
"Protect us now! No no no!" The woman  
__"Worthless! You're nothing but a waste of space... No one loves you." The same man shouted over the others, as though he was the leader._

Finally, he decided to get up and take a few more sleeping pills. He'd already taken four. His doctor wasn't going to like that, but it didn't matter. It was late, and he needed to sleep. Anyways, it didn't seem like they were helping. With a slosh of "Russian water", he took another three. After a few minutes, he passed out on his bed for a long while. Terrible bloody dreams haunted him, and unluckily, the annoying salesman from earlier was back in his dreams. However, when he dreamed, Al wasn't annoying. His smile was softer, more comforting. But as he was taking in the warmth of that smile, he felt as though he was falling. Someone had pushed him, and he didn't know who. Falling, falling through the sky, and then through leaves of the trees. He missed that golden smile that reminded him of his mother's.

Before he hit the ground, a phone rang loudly, causing him to wake up. He had a bad hangover, obviously from the amount of vodka he had drunk the night before. The light stung his eyes as he open them, and a massive headache was there to greet him. Disembodied voices were there too, but were not yelling like they were before. The phone continued to ring, loud as usual.

_"Great, he's awake..." The elderly man said exasperatedly.  
"No, they're going to know what you did..." A female voice whispered.  
__"Don't pick up, they'll find you!" Some unknown male called, warning of being found._

He groaned, got up, and stared atg at the phone for a few moments. He weighed the circumstances, reaching out to pick it up. Ivan looked away, hesitating before walking away. He went into the bathroom to take his medicine, and filled up a glass.

_"It's gonna kill you~" A sing-songy voice said, one of a young girl.  
"Stop. You need to gain control." A strong voice said. He couldn't tell if it was male or female. It just sounded forceful._

He shut off the tap, and looked at his pills. The Russian reached out to grab them, knowing it was time for him to take them.

_"Poison!" The girl, who he called Diane, yelled to him.  
"No, it's time to take your medicine."_ _A familiar voice said. For whatever reason, he felt like he knew the owner of the voice. It was a woman's._  
_"What a lame idiot... He can't even decide if he wants to take his medicine!" A teenage boy said, indifferent about the whole ordeal._

Instead of taking his medicine, he put it back on the counter and left the bathroom. He went downstairs to find that the tele was on, reporting the morning news about a young girl with cerebral palsy. But Ivan didn't hear the news. He heard the news-reporter speaking about him, telling him about something that he hadn't done. He couldn't distinguish if it was real or not.

_"Murderer! A former carpenter goes rouge and heartlessly decides to kill his older sister. What a worthless piece of shit. A no-good moron, if you ask me. This is what happens when you sleep to much and are lazy. Stop staring at me." The newsreporter said._

Back at Al's apartment, he woke up on the sofa with a bear bottle next to him. Since he had only had one bottle of light beer, it wasn't even a real hangover. But his girlfriend had already gone to work, and he had the day off. So, he lay his head back and fell back to sleep.


	6. Ghostly

The flow of chapters will be a lot slower because of finals and shit. It's hard to get inspiration whilst taking a test. Plus, my laptop is broken so any typing I want to do will have to be done on my mom's computer. And she doesn't like me doing so... Oh well.

Also, I thought I'd introduce Ivan's constant hallucinatory voices. This chapter he's off his meds, so it makes the whole thing even worse. But when schizophrenics are alone, their hallucinations tend to be much worse. Ivan has names for each of the voices that are usually there.

Diane is a young girl's voice. She's generally mean to him, but her voice is sweet like candy.  
Scarlet is older than her, and likes to tell Ivan that there's something wrong.  
The twins Nate and Theo are fairly "normal". They won't be mentioned too much.  
Jared is like an annoyed teen. He's full of himself and talks a ton. He's also sarcastic and makes fun of Ivan all the time.  
Nolan is like a fatherly voice. He kinda tells the truth most of the time. Ivan likes this voice a lot.  
Lawerence is an elderly voice, and is sort of old.

These "characters" aren't real characters. They're in his head, but to him they sound like disembodied voices. They sometimes say things that make no sense, or have no real meaning. He'll have a hard time discerning whether people are actually speaking to him, or if they're made up.

P.S., according to my sources, Cestino dei rifiuti means garbage can in Italian. Sorry if I'm wrong; I don't speak or read Italian. ;3

* * *

Ivan went slowly down the stairs, a male voice telling him to watch his steps. He stared at his paper-white feet as each one settled on the creaky wooden steps. Diane repeated "fall" over and over in a chant-like fashion, but to his luck he didn't trip and fall. Upon reaching the bottom, he heard a loud noise like a train wreaking. Stumbling around to see what it was, Ivan tried to find the source of the noise. He couldn't tell if it was real or not, so he just kept on walking. He finally got to the kitchen after pausing every once and a while to look behind himself. Scarlet, the louder female voice, warned him that "something's wrong". What it was, he didn't know. He stumbled down the stairs, and then slowly to the kitchen. At one point, he stopped abruptly for fear of falling through the floor. There wasn't any real danger of this, but he Nolan had told him that the floor wasn't strong enough to hold him up.

After a lot of stopping and going, the Russian finally got to the kitchen. He went to go put the kettle on. Next, he went to get a different cup than the one he would usually use, since that one had broken the day before.

_"No, different is bad..." Lawrence said in a low groan._

Ivan wouldn't have used a different cup if he could have his old one back. He glanced over to the corner and saw a large shadow that didn't belong there. It was perfectly bright in his kitchen, and there wasn't anything causing it. He blinked a few times to see if it would go away, but it didn't. It had no reason to be there, but things like this were normal for him. Usually he didn't see things, most of the time he heard voices. But every once and a while, he saw bright colors, or saw dark spots in places where they shouldn't be. So he just ignored it and put the cup down on the counter. Slowly, the tea boiled and he went to take it off the burner. Scarlet retold the exact weather report from earlier, which was normal for the Russian man. They never made any sense. He poured the boiling water into the new cup, and put a little bit of sweetener in. He'd taken that particular packet from a McDonald's a while back. It had gone bad about a week ago, but it was better than drinking cheap tea with nothing in it.

_"Partly cloudy, 91% humidity, winds of 2 miles an hour..." Scarlet spoke in a monotone voice."68 degrees outside today... It could be better if you made it so." She said after breaking out of that monotonous tone.  
_

He sighed deeply and went to sip on the hot tea before it got cold. A loud voice told him to stop, because it was going to kill him. He ignored it and sipped at the steamy water, but stopped a few seconds later. _What if it does kill me? It's not like anyone would come to get me... My sisters might not know for weeks. I don't have enough to pay for a hospital..._ _Toris wouldn't check on me... Neither would Eduard or Ravis... They're just scared of me, and they wouldn't just help me. Natalia is in college, and Kat doesn't live around here..._

After those thoughts entered his head, he put down the cup. It wasn't worth it. He went over to the fridge and looked around. There was half a fruit juice bottle, a bag of frozen broccoli, a bottle of spoiled milk, and a few eggs. The whole fridge had the fragrant perfume of some bad Italian food he had gotten last week from Cestino dei Rifiuti's and old cucumbers. He closed the fridge, deciding he wasn't very hungry any more. After that, he went out to the couch and lay on it. He still smelt like vodka from the night before, and the couch contained that smell to. Ivan turned on the tele and flipped through the channels, not interested in anything he was seeing.

Al, on the other hand, was very interested in the show he was watching. It was a ghost hunting programme that most would laugh at, but the American loved these shows. He watched them alone though, since he screamed like a middle school girl when they found some evidence. Curled around a pillow like a little kid, his eyes peered intently as the people on the show traveled through some South Asian country whose name he couldn't pronounce. Apparently there had been a lot of ghost sightings there. He watched with wide-eyes as they worked at night, since in the day-time it was easy to see. And that would ruin the show if there was no mystery! They walked around a small rural village where the elder there had told about a ghostly apparition that he had seen earlier that week.

Apparitions were a fairly normal occurrence for Ivan. Right now he wasn't seeing any full-body "ghosts", but often times he did. Finally, the Russian settled on some news station. Luckily, there wasn't much noise in his head at that point so he could drift into a brief period of sleep. This wasn't a usual thing for Ivan, and he relished the feeling of rest.

The American almost shrieked as something flew in front of the camera. "OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" He practically screamed, and one of his neighbors hit their fist on the wall as though to tell him to shut up. He didn't care though; he was too scared. There was no chance of him sleeping alone again tonight, because he was going to have bad dreams for sure. _What if that thing came and got me?!_

It turns out that "ghost" was actually a large bat. It was still scary, though!


	7. Loss of Being

Oh wow! An update! Sorry for the molasses-speed, but my Chromebook broke and is still broken. I vow to continue though, because what type of writer would I be otherwise?

Finally, the two kismet lovers meet next chapter~ I promise, I promise!

* * *

After that scene passed, Alfred watched on in an anxious state to see what would happen next. _What if they really found a ghost? _If they did, he thought, he'd surely piss himself.

Ivan was less worried about a silly supernatural television and more concerned with calming down his noisy "friends". Second by second passed on, like real syrup on a cold day. He couldn't function much. In fact, the bit his brain was working was occupied being extremely bored. What point is there in that? Instead of being able to work, or eat, or even sleep, all he could really do was sit there in a period of dismal doldrums. Not even on a good day could the Russian figure out why he got in that place in his mind, nor how to get out. He was so tired that it was seemingly impossible to sleep. Plus the loud noises around him kept him up. The sound of battle drums, and ringing in his ears. He sighed deeply and flipped on the radio, then tried to focus on the music that was blaring on his radio. The disembodied voices that seemed to haunt him endlessly seemed to fade away in the heavy beat of the song. He lay his head back, a small smile gracing his lips.

An ache in his head, but no voices. His doctors had said not to self-medicate himself, but this worked better than anything that they could prescribe. Music gave him peace for a while. Just a few moments, but that was better than nothing. Inside his head, iridescent lights that danced like stars in the night. They moved slowly, in a calming way that made him want to sit there forever with the radio blasting some unnamed heavy rock song. It didn't matter as the visions caressed his mind, taking everything else away from him. After a while of sitting there with eyelids closed, he lost the overall feeling of being alive. The music had left his ears, and he couldn't feel his body any longer. It all slipped away as he felt nonexistent. Suddenly, one by one, the lights began to fade away. After the last light went away, there was only pitch blackness. He couldn't see a single thing, and he had lost feeling in his body. He wanted to scream, or run away. But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything.

Alfred was in a slightly less terrifying situation, but he was scared of the show! _The ghosts could, like, eat me or something! _They had found some sort of "evidence" on the show. The American watched as they played a clip of a musky-looking area in the tropics, and some sort of light passed in front of the camera. Some might have said it was just a fluke light, but Al was fully convinced that it was an apparition from the beyond. As he sat there pondering this, his cellphone rang loud of some stupid pre-set ringtone. The young man almost jumped out of his skin. He pulled out his cheap phone and looked at the screen. In the low light, the blue-ish screen said in white letters "ARTIE CALLING" in all-caps. He flipped open the phone, and said a little greeting til the sound of his British brother cut him off.

"Alfred, are you doing anything tonight?" He said quickly, ignoring the greeting and skipping to the questions."Well... Not really." The young American uttered, not sure why he was asking.  
"I've got something for you to do. A few of my mates are going out for a piss-up at the local pub. I'm tasked with the ever glorious role of finding a designated driver. Are you up for that?" He said in a too quick way, pausing because he knew it would take a moment or two for his 'idiot American brother' to translate that.  
"Ah... Sure?" Al spoke in a way that showed he was completely confused. Not that Arthur really cared.  
"See you there about eight, yes?"  
"K, see ya." He said before putting the phone down.

It then dawned on him what that meant. He'd have to see Artie drunk. When his brother got really wasted, he was completely out of control. In fact, that's generally the only reason anyone brought him along. They liked to get him shitfaced and he'd do anything then. _Shit, I've got to watch **that**._ Whilst Artie's friends enjoyed watching the spectical that he was when he was drunk, Alfred didn't care for it one bit. He was always the one who'd have to clean up after him, and most likely deal with the massive hangover the next day.

After a few minutes of the deafening silence that Ivan had endured, his body let him move again. The music pierced his eardrums as he gained some sort of consciousness. His eyes quickly opened, though he wasn't sure if it was real. He saw everything as it usually was, but who knew? He began to stand up slowly before running upstairs to take his medicine. The Russian sloshed back that and a few extra headache medicines to was away the pounding in his head. He decided to go out for a drink to cheer him up a bit. It would help

Unbeknownst to the two men, they were headed to the same bar. Ivan for a quick drink, Alfred for the sake of his older brother. Despite the difference in reasons, they would see each other again. Was it meant to be?


	8. Coming Out?

Sorry my peoples... I have been gone for a while. My computer is broken, but gladly my grandma is letting me use her's. However, I can't write much right now, because she'll get mad if she finds out I was writing a gay love story on her computer. I'll hopefully be back on full-time in a little bit! :3

* * *

Ivan sighed the long sigh of a man tired of being upset but not yet over his problem. He looked like hell frozen over, but that's what one would expect from a man who was desperately in love. Truly desperate to keep what he thought was perfect and nice for him. However, all that was perfect and nice for him was not in reality very good. Ivan wasn't always there for people... Including his boyfriend. It wasn't **completely** his fault that he there were times when he wouldn't talk nor eat for days, but things like that were... too weird for most people. Even Yao.

It's not like he was evil. And he wasn't stupid either. The Russian man just couldn't read emotions. It was a curse on his mind, this disorder was. He knew he wasn't right for Yao. He didn't think he'd find anyone who would be able to deal with him.

Alfred was getting ready to go. He was told to dress up, but fuck that. He was going to wear his favourite neon green alien t-shirt and a sky blue hoodie. Matched with some tight jeans and bright red Converse, it was perfect for him. Arthur texted him "Hurry up", and that he did. He hurried out to the car, he hurried to the Brit's house, he hurried to get this night over with. Every time he brought his big brother out drinking, something always went horribly wrong. Hopefully this time it wouldn't get them kicked out of yet another bar.

Ivan had actually gotten himself dressed, which was a task he couldn't always accomplish. A simple loose white shirt, jeans, and a black jacket were good enough for a night of getting drunk. He actually sat there for about five minutes deciding which scarf to wear. Wasn't that fairly manly, am I right? But he always wore one. And he couldn't decide whether he liked the white scarf or the grey scarf more. They would both work, but he sat there waiting for some sort of revelation. When nothing came, he wrapped the white one around his neck, and off he was to go to the bar.

The Russian actually quite liked going out to places, because it was more likely he'd hear voices that were real rather than made-up. When he walked in the bar and saw Alfred standing there, he wondered if his mind had accidentally put him there. It wasn't the first time that had happened. Al was hunched over, trying to tune out the sounds of everything else. He looked... Sad. 'Why is he sad? Is it not the point of coming to a bar to have a good time?' But then he remembered why he was here. Maybe they could be sad together and drink it off?

For the record, Ivan wasn't even sure if Alfred was actually there. So, to make sure, he poked him in the side.

"What the h...?" Alfred exclaimed, confused about what had just happened. Ivan gave a goofy smile. "So you are real. Good. Hello again, Alfred." He sat down in the bar-stool next to the other man (even though in all technicality he was more of a teen).

Alfred didn't know what to say to that. 'What does he mean? He had to make sure I was real?' He thought, eyebrows furrowing a little bit. "Hey, what's up? Wouldn't expect you to be here." The young American said. I guess it wasn't so weird that a man'd come out on a weekend to be at a bar.

"I could say the same to you, Alfred..." He said after ordering a vodka. "Driver, hm?" The Russian said, nodding to the water.

"Is that how everyone knows I'm the driver?" He said with a confused look. It was obviously his first time at a bar. "But really man, vodka? I guess you would be the type to drink that..." He said, sipping on his water with almost a disgusted look.

"What was that supposed to mean?" He said, taking the vodka down easily. He drank it all the time, it's not like he was bothered by it. On the other hand, Alfred seemed to have a problem with it. "It's just... Obvious that you're upset about something." He said, scrambling to find a way to say that without sounding like a girl. "Recent break-up?"

Ivan sighed a bit, nodding. "Yeah. Just a few days ago." He noticed the fact that he'd been sighing a lot more. Maybe it human nature to sigh. Whether it was for attention, or just because it "felt right". Honestly, it didn't matter either way. He could use some attention, but that wasn't what he was getting.

"Yeah, I got you, dude... My girlfriend can be a bitch sometimes. Guessing she left you, right?" Alfred said, not knowing how wrong he was. "Yeah... S-she left me." He said in a soft voice. Ivan was a bad liar, but Alfred was really bad at telling lies from truth. Alfred nodded a little, and then finished off his water. "That must've sucked... But you'll get over it, right? Some chicks just can't tell the good ones from the bad ones." He gave a weak smile, not able to muster up a real one for a complete stranger. But maybe Ivan wasn't a stranger. They'd met before, right? And even though he was pretty weird, he still seemed like a pretty nice guy.

Ivan's eyes closed as he nodded. "Next time maybe I'll pick a better guy... Someone who doesn't always nag about cleaning the dishes and taking out the trash." He smiled as he imagined that, though Alfred noticed that he'd said "guy".

"Woah... Is Ivan gay? That's so weird... I mean, not in a homophobic way or anything, but you think you know a guy..." He thought, though Alfred had the habit of thoughts coming out as words, so Ivan blushed a little and looked away. "Yes, I guess it is a little... Weird." He pulled up that scarf to keep Alfred from seeing that little blush on his face. Luckily, it didn't matter. Alfred thought it was kinda cute how Ivan got all embarrassed. "Hey, dude, it's no big deal. So what, you like cock. I knew there was something a little off about you..." He smiled a little more. Ivan nodded, looking at the ground. He couldn't help the fact that he got all bashful when he talked about things like that. Mostly, he didn't expect Alfred to be so okay with it. I mean, it's not that he thought Alfred would be mad at him about it or anything, but he did expect that at least there'd be a bad reaction or something. Ivan let his scarf fall, a small smile. "Yes, I suppose you're right, Alfred. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I just know most straight men won't even talk to men who like men." He tilted his head to the side, smiling a little bit more. "Well, I guess that I'm something special. If I didn't talk to gay guys, I wouldn't talk to my older brother." Alfred smiled a bit more. It was completely true. His big brother liked guys a lot, but he never talked about at all.

Ivan smiled, and nodded. "I guess that's the weirdest thing about me~" He said, knowing that he was a complete freakshow. He wondered how long he'd ever be able to keep up that lie.


End file.
